A young man sits on the bridge after
nightfall and looks across the
Hudson
River to
New
Jersey.
He wonders about life and
he wonders if he'll ever get old.
He sees the lights, he wonders if they are talking to each other,
and he wonders if they
are talking to him, and he asks if they are.
My mind settles down on
those lights from
New
Jersey
Why I chose
New
Jersey to look at I don't know
Well one thing's sure,
I'm here to see those lights
It doesn't matter, don't matter, no,
where I come from or where I go
Well, what does it mean?
Those lights, I can't resist the thought that
they are twinkling to each other.
Are they?
Are they?
His leisure hours are spent in a way that
mystifies his younger years, thinking hard
he has no say what's in his eyes
and meets his ears.
Well, one thing's sure,
I'm here to see those lights
It doesn't matter, don't matter, no,
where I come from or where I go
Well what does it mean, those lights,
I can't resist the thought that they are twinkling
to each other, are they, are they,
Lights are shining brighter now,
but it's not all for me.
Different lights across the river,
lights of industry.
They are so beautiful.
Very, very, very beautiful.
Suddenly,
the ice that was floating down the
Hudson stops, the flow has stopped,
and so,
Dejected, he wanders back into the city, back to the bars,
back to where he first found
happiness.
But he didn't notice,
on the brick warehouse wall
The hulking,
lurking shadow of a human
form,
Mr.
Mystery.
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